Not My Place

Romans 2:5-16

February 2, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC

The word “judgment” has fallen on hard times in the last couple of decades or so. A recent poll of Christians found that those under age forty-five were four times more likely than their older counterparts to say that if their beliefs offend someone or hurt their feelings, their beliefs are wrong. When translated into the world of faith we find Christians saying that if Biblical truth offends someone, we should just stop believing it (cf. Myers, Unquestioned Answers, pgs. 146-147). For instance, I was once told that “Blessed are the peacemakers” no longer applies today (cf. Matthew 5:9). Others will pick other Bible passages that “have no relevance” these days, especially those having to do with judgment. Hurting someone with your beliefs is considered judgmental by people with faith or with no faith. We just don’t like the word, it seems so negative, and so we have embraced the cultural cliche that says, “It’s not my place to judge.” Don’t be judgmental, we are told. So is judgment, then, an old fashioned Bible idea that we should jettison?

This morning we’re continuing to look at things Christians say, cliches that we use without thinking about it. The problem is, as we’ve been discovering, they either aren’t true or, more often, only partially true, so we’re trying to discern what the Biblical truth is that has somehow gotten distorted. This morning we’re continuing from where we left off last week in the letter to the Romans. Last week we talked about “sin” and “forgiveness” and this week we want to look at the idea of judgment—and whose role it is. It’s not a pleasant topic, to be sure, because no one likes to feel judged. But judgment (especially God’s judgment) is something the writers of Scripture don’t shy away from. A day is coming when judgment will happen, so what does that mean for us today?

As Christians, we believe what’s in this book, the things God has revealed about himself throughout history. And we believe that Jesus, the son of God, has described a particular way we human beings are to live. And because we believe there is this one path all people should be on, we are often accused of being judgmental, which in today’s language is a very negative word. What our current culture has forgotten (or ignored) is that there is a difference between judgment and being judgmental (cf. Myers 147). We do judge; everyone does. We use judgment every day of our lives to determine if people or things are safe, if there are threats coming our way or if what we are planning to do is a good idea. We even exercise judgment subconsciously. I have to judge whether or not this chair will hold me before I sit down in it. We might call those things discernment (I guess so that it somehow sounds nicer), but we are making a judgment call. Right or wrong, left or right, up or down, PC or Mac—judgment calls (though on that last one there is only one right answer). Being judgmental, however, is where someone constantly finds fault with others, or bullies them, or in other ways demonstrates a lack of care. You know the kind—the ones who never have a good word to say about anyone or anything. (You’re probably friends with that person on Facebook.) Being judgmental is all about tearing someone else down, pointing out their flaws, or looking down on everyone and everything around you. And when we do that, Jesus says, “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the same measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Matthew 7:2). Ouch. Jesus says when you are judgmental toward others, expect the same treatment to come back on you.

Paul said a similar thing in the section of this chapter of Romans that we began looking at last week. He tells the Roman Christians that when they are judgmental toward their fellow citizens, they are actually “passing judgment” on themselves because they do the same things (2:1). And, as we talked about last week, while they weren’t living out exactly the same sins, their act of judging the Romans was sin. The reason they don’t recognize that truth is, as Paul goes on to describe in the passage we read this morning, that they are stubborn and unrepentant (2:5). Wow, Paul, don’t hold back, just say what you really mean! Paul tells them they are callous and hard toward others—not a way you really want someone to describe you! And even more than that, Paul says, they don’t even feel bad that they are that way. It’s that kind of attitude that leads to the kind of judgment they demonstrating to the Romans, and it’s also that kind of attitude that has put them in a place where they won’t “escape God’s judgment” (2:3).

There are a growing number of people today who seem to want to remove any kind of thought that God might judge people one day. It’s the “everyone’s okay, everyone will get into the kingdom” mentality, the same mentality that wants to remove sin from everyone’s vocabulary. That’s so negative; don’t talk about that! The problem is that the Bible talks often about God being a judge, about God judging the world. Granted, he is a righteous judge. He is the only righteous judge. But he is a judge nonetheless. The same psalmist who said, “God is a righteous judge, a God who displays his wrath every day” (Psalm 7:11) also said, “Lord my God, I take refuge in you” (Psalm 7:1). God is a refuge and a judge. And one day, the Scriptures say in unison, he will judge the earth and everyone who has ever lived.

What will be his criteria? Paul, quoting the Old Testament, says it this way: “God ‘will repay each person according to what they have done’” (2:6). According to what they have done…Jesus seems to have said the same thing in his famous parable of the end of time, one we often call the “sheep and the goats.” In Matthew 25, he says people will be divided into two groups. The “sheep” are those who fed the hungry, gave the thirsty something to drink, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, cared for the sick and visited the prisoner. The “goats” are those who didn’t do those things. And in Jesus’ parable, the sheep are surprised; they didn’t think the things they did were any big deal. The goats are surprised, too, but for other reasons. They didn’t realize they should have been doing those things. (They were probably too busy attending church meetings.) Jesus says the difference between the sheep and the goats is in what they did and didn’t do (cf. Matthew 25:31-46). Paul is drawing from that same well when he says, “God will repay each person according to what they have done” (2:6). The criteria for God’s judgment is what we do or don’t do.

But wait a minute, I pretend to hear you say, I thought we were saved by grace and not by works. That’s what you’ve always said, Pastor. I was paying attention! So what does this judgment thing mean? Well, yes, let me say first of all that Paul is the first one to insist that our salvation is by grace alone (cf. Ephesians 2:8-9). Jesus has already done all the work that needed to be done in order to erase our sin, grant us forgiveness and eternal life in God’s kingdom. We can’t add one bit to his finished work on the cross. We are saved by grace but we are judged by our works because “our works indicate our faith and express our character” (McKnight, Romans, pg. 59). In other words, our works don’t earn our salvation but they prove our salvation. They are evidence of and demonstrate our salvation. New Testament scholar Scot McKnight says it this way: “Those who receive God’s grace truly become agents of grace. Those who are justified by God are transformed into agents of justice. Those who are liberated by God’s grace become agents of liberation” (59). In other words, we become more like the God who has saved us by grace as we live that out. Jesus said, “By their fruit you will recognize them” (Matthew 7:16), something I always think about when anyone comes touting their Christian faith loudly. Do their words match their actions? Celebrity, politician, preacher, athlete, entertainer or ordinary person on the street—the grace that saves us is the same grace that compels us to live a new way. The way we live and the things we do show whether our connection to God is one only of words or is actually one of a transformed life.

Ultimately, only God can determine such a thing. Let me remind you of something I said last week, something echoed in this chapter of Romans: “God alone is the judge. God alone will judge. God is fair” (McKnight 59). It is not our job to judge; that is God’s—and that makes me think of something I saw on a t-shirt years ago: “There is a God. You are not him.” And neither am I. And neither is the person sitting next to you. So because we will be and can only be judged by the only one who is absolutely righteous, the only one who is absolutely qualified to judge, we can confidently leave all judgment up to him and not do it to one another. It is not our calling and so we have no right to be judgmental toward others. Jesus said, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” (Matthew 7:1).

Paul indicates there are two results to God’s judgment. He says for those who do right, who live God’s way, there will be “eternal life” (2:7). That’s the same thing Jesus talked about when he said the sheep would receive their “inheritance the kingdom prepared for [them] since the creation of the world” (Matthew 25:34). We can call it “heaven” or “the kingdom of God,” and we can have all these ideas of what it might look like (most of which come more from movies than from Scripture), but the bottom line is this: they will be with God, and that is a good place to be. Later on in this passage, there is a shift in Paul’s language that would specifically be aimed at those who had followed God’s law all of their lives, the law written in what we call the Old Testament. And it’s an intricate argument, but here’s what it comes down to: you can keep the law all you want, but that’s not what gives you salvation or eternal life. What God wants is not a legal life, but a heart that is willing to do his will. “What matters is not possessing the law but doing God’s will” (McKnight 60). That’s what will allow a person to receive “glory, honor and peace” (2:10).

The other result of God’s judgment is the one that separates us from God. Paul calls it “wrath and anger” (2:8), which does not sound very pretty. He goes on to say, “There will be trouble and distress for every human being who does evil” (2:9). Back in Jesus’ parable, he says the goats will be told this: “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matthew 25:41). In the parable, the ones who are sent away are surprised; they thought all their busy activity was actually God’s will (cf. Hamilton, The Message of Jesus, pg. 51). That’s a lot of images to sort through, but the point is this: what we really believe has to come out somewhere. It will be demonstrated in the way we live. And though we maybe tempted to take God’s job, we must resist that urge. Leave judgment to him (cf. McKnight 60).

But still, just for standing for what we believe, we will undoubtedly be accused of being judgmental. So, the question then becomes: how do we respond? Or what should we do when someone accuses us of being judgmental? Two things. First of all, especially these days, it is important to separate facts from opinions. A lot of opinions, especially on social media and in the news, are presented as fact. We seem to have forgotten that there is a big difference between the two. For instance, fact or opinion? “Steak is a piece of beef that can be cooked in a variety of ways.” That’s a fact: steak is beef and there are many ways you can prepare it. To make that claim is not a judgment; it’s stating something that is true. Here’s another one: fact or opinion? “Steak is best cooked well done.” Now, I would say that’s a fact, but that’s because it’s my opinion. Others of you would probably disagree, and have your own ideas about the best way to cook a steak. Facts and opinions—there is a wide difference between the two but in today’s world we get those confused. Very often, opinions are presented as facts and if you disagree with me, then we can no longer be friends. So the first thing we should do, probably always, is to separate facts from opinions (cf. Myers 147-148).

A second response is to remember and share what we have been talking about so far. God is the judge, and, as Paul says, “God does not show favoritism” (2:11). Paul is arguing about Jews and Gentiles in the Romans passage, and that each would be judged based on the way they live out the faith they claim. Jews had always claimed a privileged place in God’s economy, but Paul, even though he loves his people, says that while they were first to know about God, God wants Jew and Gentile alike to receive “glory, honor and peace” (2:10). But sometimes people will say something like this: even if someone’s choice is a sin, we have no right to say so because it’s not my place to judge. God is merciful, God is forgiving, God is gracious, God is…fill in the blank with your favorite positive attribute of God. We elevate a particular characteristic and seem to think God sets the rest of his character aside when he sees our actions. But God isn’t divided like that. God does judge but he is a fair judge, and he will not show favoritism one way or the other (cf. Myers 148-149).

When we’re tempted to judge someone else, Paul would say we need to fall back into trusting that “the judge of all the earth [will] do right” (cf. Genesis 25:18). “God’s truth is not up for debate” (Myers 157), but that doesn’t give us permission to be judgmental or intolerant. It is instead a call to trust God more deeply, love others more truthfully and allow them to see Jesus working in and through our lives. It really is not my place to judge because judgment belongs to God.

Today we’re going to engage in a many-faceted practice that reminds us of God’s lack of favoritism. Think about the very first time this practice took place, in a upper room on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Jesus had gathered his disciples and probably some others, people who were his closest friends and companions, but they were a mixed lot at best. Sitting next to him was Judas, a man who was about to betray him to the Jewish and Roman rulers. On the other side was John, a man who at one time wanted to call down fire on a whole village. Talk about being judgmental! Across the way was Peter, a man who desperately wanted to follow Jesus but so often just did not get what Jesus was about. And in other places around the table were disciples who all wanted Jesus to kick out the Romans and set up an earthly kingdom in Jerusalem. Even after Jesus died and was resurrected, they still thought that was what he was going to do (cf. Acts 1:6). They were a mixed lot at best, and yet as they would learn that night, as he washed their feet and served as their host at dinner, they were all welcome into Jesus’ kingdom because God does not show favoritism. That night, he gave them a meal, a practice that would forever remind then that all are welcome and all are equal in Jesus’ sight. Jesus took the bread that represented his body and the wine that represented his blood and he gave it to John, to Judas, to Peter and to all the rest. All were welcome because God does not show favoritism. So let’s come to the table and give thanks to God.